


Fire and ice

by Wrathofscribbles



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-19
Updated: 2019-03-19
Packaged: 2019-11-24 14:11:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18166220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wrathofscribbles/pseuds/Wrathofscribbles
Summary: One eventually wins over the other.  Always.





	Fire and ice

Fire: some farm lad hauling Bethy backward and yelling at her, just a little girl, just a baby,  _filthy demon, off to the Templars!_ Hearing her sister's screams, Marian calling down her own magic, a wave of it, choking him, drowning him.   _Take your hands off my sister!_

Ice: Papa so pale, so frail, every breath a rattling summons for death, and no number of blankets can bring warmth back to his bones.   _Please don't leave, Papa, please don't go._

Fire: Carver off to war against impossible foes, impossible odds, and even Wardens fall to Darkspawn.  Will he return?

Ice: Mother waits by the window every morning, every evening.  A silent vigil for her son.   _He'll come back_ , she says, shadows in her eyes and all the hollows she didn't have before.  Grief and despair make a skeleton of her and Marian wonders... if she had the mage touch in her, would a demon have her already?

Ice: thunderous roar and crunch of bone and Bethy's thrown aside too hard, too fast.  Her baby sister doesn't get up again.   _This is all your fault, your fault, your fault!_

Ice: killers or thieves for freedom.  Not much of a choice for a year.  They can survive it.  One year.  They  _can_.  They  _must_.  Kirkwall is no place for mages.

Ice:  _I'm sorry for what I said, darling,_ her mother says and Marian almost believes her.   _Almost,_ except for the look in her eyes.  They both know it should have been her, not Bethany.

Ice: Carver and all his pent up fury, a pillar at her back when the wolves of Kirkwall come snapping, a trap clamping shut on her ankles the moment they're gone.  So many arguments, so many fights, so many tears and she knows.  She  _knows_ she's a burden, mages always are, and it should have been her crushed by that ogre's face.

Ice: she loses him to the Templars.

Ice: they claw their estate back through filth and blood and bone and around their walls the city crumbles at its foundations.

Ice: white lilies.   _Oh no, no, no!_

Ice: a body in her arms with her mother's face, her mother's voice, her mother's blood spilling all over her hands.  Death comes on swift wings to the Hawkes.

Ice, ice, so much  _ice_.  But she's not strong enough to crack it, she can't thaw it, can't even  _chip_ it.  There's no fire left in her.


End file.
